Tell Me How I'm Supposed to Breathe
by justlistening
Summary: Kurt could never find the words to say. But his letter to Blaine could change everything. Klaine flangst, folks! Enjoy and R&R! Rated T for language.


_This is based on a FANTASTIC Harry Potter fanfic by ryffinhuffinpuffindorin, so the original concept is not entirely my own. Enjoy, and please review if you have something lovely or something constructive to say!_

* * *

Hi, Blaine.

God. We've been together for two years, and all I can give is a "Hi, Blaine."

Fuck, I'm pathetic.

But I don't exactly know how to go about telling you this. It's not going to be easy, Blaine.

I know…I know that this will be hard to understand. Honestly, I don't really understand it myself. But I know that I can't live like this anymore. I can't live, knowing that we are in a world where people won't accept us for who we are. Where some people are treated like shit for things that they can't change. Where people aren't free to love who they want to love.

I've never said this out loud. And I'm sorry for that. But I say it in my mind, in my heart, a thousand times a day:

_I love you, Blaine Anderson_.

God, I love you.

I love the way that you look at me when I come home with yet another Alexander McQueen sweater (that I didn't really need, but that's beside the point).

I love the way you complain about watching Audrey Hepburn movies with me, even though I know that it's only for show.

I love how you kiss me in the morning, then pretend to be asleep when I wake up.

I still remember the look on your face when my Dad answered the door on the night of our senior prom. And I love how you managed to keep your cool, even though your hand was trembling.

I love that look you give me every time "Teenage Dream" comes on the radio.

I love when we have sex. I love when we fuck. And I _love_when we make love.

I know you're still insecure about your hair, but I'm wild about those curls.

I love how you know to shove a coffee mug in my hands before telling me "good morning." I'm not very nice without my caffeine, am I?

And don't tell my Dad, but I like your coffee the best.

I love how you treat your sister. You may not think it's anything special, but trust me. It is.

Last Valentine's Day, when you bought me sunflowers instead of red roses? That was the first time I decided that I loved you.

I love how you scoffed at that stuffed dolphin I won for you at the fair- I believe the word you used was "idiotic-and I also love how you sleep with it when I'm not home.

I love your secret (and a bit over-the-top) obsession with Harry Potter.

I love when we had that snowball fight in the middle of Central Park last Christmas, and how you kissed me right there, for everyone to see. You had a snowflake on your eyelash.

I love how you will never admit the truth about the copious amounts of shower sex after we saw that horror movie. Clearly, you were just too scared to shower alone.

Remember when I broke my leg after high school? You wrote dirty phrases on the back of the cast, where no one could see. I may have yelled at you then, but I looked at them every day with a silly grin on my face.

I love how you stayed so damn strong when your father called us a pair of fags. That's why I never admitted that I heard you crying later that night. And that it damn near broke my heart.

I think that your pink sunglasses are ugly as hell, but I still love them.

I love how you yelled at me after I joked about breaking up with you. You said that our love was too special make casual jokes about ending it. And you were right.

I love how you can play the piano. And the guitar. And I love that you look so hot while doing it.

I love how you give me courage, each and every day.

You're so sexy when you're baking. You have no idea how much restraint it takes not to jump you every time I see flour on your cheek. Or maybe you do because of that one time in January…

God. I'm crying now. Did you know that I never cried before you? Even when my mom died I never let the tears come out. Now one look at you and I'm blubbering like an idiot.

You saved me, Blaine. You came into my life with your mop of black hair, and your blinding smile, and your endless amounts of optimism. You're the first one to ever love me for _me. _And it's been so incredible to let myself share in that love.

But now I have to go. I have to do this, for me. But I'm doing it for the countless others who need my help, too.

Blaine? Last week, when I said I was going to get a pedicure, and you gave me a smile and laughed about my 'impeccable grooming habits'? I lied.

I was actually going to Columbus. I walked into the recruiting office, flashed a smile, and signed my life away to the army. The recruiter asked me if I was sure, and I said that I'd been sure for a long time.

I didn't tell you because I was scared. I can see the look on your face as you read this, the tears just on the surface that you're not allowing to fall. The hand that you'll place over your mouth when you finally let them go. And I wish so much that I could be there with you, rocking you through the pain. Making everything okay again.

But if I did that, then I'd never find the strength to go away.

I really believe in this war that we're in is one that we can win. The War Against Hatred (as President Sylvester aptly put it) is something that needs to happen, now, before it's too late. This is a chance to make things right.

I might not come back from this alive. There, I said it. I might die, Blaine. But-

Goddamn it.

I wish I had taken a creative writing class. Maybe then I could find the words. But words aren't going to help in this case, are they?

I could die. Yes, this is true. But I could also come out of this whole mess alive, and then we can be together forever, and things will be perfect.

But.

But if I die, today, tomorrow, or years from now...you have to move on with your life, Blaine. In any way that you can. And if that means finding someone new to love, then that's okay. Just _live. _That's all I ask of you (melodramatic Phantom reference complete). Okay?

_We can dance until we die,_  
_You and I, we'll be young forever. _

Remember that? It's a song that celebrates youth and love, but above all, it celebrates living for the moment.

Have courage, Blaine.

I love you.

-Kurt

_The sun slowly began to rise, and the world began again. But through the silence, a sharp cry of grief was heard, and a letter fell from a hand and drifted onto the cold, hard, wood._


End file.
